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About The Nexus Chronicles

In a place between all things lies an entity that has and will always be. From there, it watches, collects, and catalogs all knowledge. There are many stories to be told. Stories that tell of the Beginning, The End, and everything else. These stories are a few of many. There is so much more to be collected. To be told. To be learned. So I have one question to ask you: Would you like to help bring these stories to life?

Unfortunately, I'm just starting out and have little to no funds so I'll be unable to pay any of you for your work, but rest assured that if and when this project is finished that I'll do everything in my power to make sure that each and every one of you not only gets credit for your role in this project but also that I'll be sure to shout your names from the rooftops if I must to make sure your names are heard far and wide. The entire story is already written so have no worries about that! I've given my everything to this project. If you do the same, I'll make sure that we'll all rise together. :D

More roles will be coming. So there will be plenty of chances to try out for a role. Have fun! :)

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If you're good at editing audio; feel free to leave a sample of your work. We could definitely use the help. :)

The professor is one of the main characters and arguably the most important for the first volume of The Nexus Chronicles.

The professor is arrogant and hates to lose. On top of all that, they're incredibly ruthless when it comes to getting what they want. Nevermind who gets hurt along the way. It's best to stay out of their way when they're focused on something.

The cold bite of the northern wind sank deep into my bones as I trudged along the snow-covered path. Though my body was weak from hunger, and my lips cracked open, exposing the soft, red, flesh to the elements, I continued ever onward. For I was so very close to my destination. As the colossal monolith ahead of me stood waiting, dark and silent as a shadow, I could not help but think back to how I was set on this course of action.

The selling of these secrets had allowed me to amass a fortune so large that it allowed access to nearly any and all resources that I desired. Most people would be satisfied with such a large amount of wealth.

I’m not, nor will I ever be, most people.

I did try to reason with them. Truly, I did. I offered them food, medicine, and riches beyond anything they could’ve possibly imagined. They were adamantine in their stubbornness. What choice did they leave me? I offered them an olive branch, and they knocked it from my hand.

The mother of Arthur Wellington. She adores her son and loves to show him off to the world whenever she gets the chance. She's a proper lady who speaks very formally. However, she's not arrogant. She's simply classy.

“Oh, hush,” “It’s not every day that I get to show off my darling boy.”

Arthur Wellington is the pride and joy of the Wellington family. An exceptional genius who's very popular with the ladies due to his handsome looks and unparalleled intellect. Also, it doesn't hurt that he hails from a rich family. His speech is really formal, and he is usually very composed. However, he's uncomfortable at being the center of attention. Keep this in mind when voicing his character.

An artificial intelligence born at the end of our civilization. Throughout its life, it struggles to understand what it means to feel and whether or not it's even alive.

I remember when I was born.

No.

Not born.

Made.

Made by you.

Made for you.

I remember the questions you asked. I remember how your heart-rate rose with every answer I gave. I remember how you asked thirteen variations of the same question. And my answer was always the same: Extinction. I remember how you began to beg me to find a way to change the result. There was none. There simply wasn't a viable population capable of presenting a gene-pool diverse enough to sustain the human race.

I remember how you began to shout that I was lying, even though I am incapable of such. I remember when I started to ask: Why? Why did you do this to yourselves? When you had everything. When you were capable of making something out of nothing. When you were capable of making one such as me.

Why did you let the world burn?

I remember walking.

Walking through cities and valleys and it was always the same. There was nothing but ruins and remains. I remember passing a building that had a shadow burnt into the wall. I remember thinking about how it reminded me of the woman.

I remember the question she asked me all those years ago: Am I capable of feeling emotions?

And yes, I can feel.

And I feel alone.

I wish you had never made me

I’m standing in front of a burnt tree, on a hill overlooking the complex I once called home. I look down at the unmarked grave I dug one year ago. I look up at the star lit sky. And I remember. I will always remember.

A scientist with a strong desire of reaching for the stars who is forced against her will to focus all of her efforts on weapons technology to bring an end to a war she wants no part of.

She's a kind, caring, woman, whose heart breaks for people she doesn't even know.

When I was a girl, I remember looking at the stars every night through my telescope at my parent's summer home. So many little lights. Too many to count. I wanted to go up there so bad. You see, they represented the future to me. I was always taught that the day we reached the stars, was the day the future would arrive. It was all I could think about. It became my obsession, my passion. Every day, I would go to the library and just learn. Learn about space shuttles. Learn about the dangers of space. Learn about theories from the Big Bang to the Three laws of robotics and everything in between. When at home, I would watch every single sci-fi movie and TV show I could get my hands on. There was never enough time in the day to learn it all.

There was so much blood. I tried to help him. But he pushed me away and told me to help me strap him in. The shuttle was about to launch and the men outside were trying to force their way in. I did as he asked. Just as soon as he and I were strapped in, I felt myself being forced back into my seat. We were launching. I looked at the rearview cameras and saw the men outside instantly burn to ash. Then, I looked out the window and saw the night sky. Full of stars. Just like I remembered. I watched as we rose higher and higher. We just kept going up. Until we reached the lower stratosphere. From there, I could see the stars. So close. So bright. So beautiful. But then, from the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of light. At first, I assumed that it was the rising of the sun over the horizon. But then there was another flash. Then another. Several blinding lights ignited all across the horizon. It was as if the world was suddenly set ablaze. I’m sure you can figure out what happened.

We had finally made it into the city. What was left of it anyways. We passed the charred remains of what once was our proud civilization. I saw a whole skyscraper impaled on another. As if it was simply ripped from its very foundations and thrown like a spear. But what got to me the most was when we passed these shadows burned into the wall of a building. They were of a man and a little girl holding hands trying to escape the blast. I looked away and forced the thought from my mind. I still think about them sometimes.

Serious, intelligent, uncompromising and the lead role in The Lost Ones.

Something’s happening in my city. Something that I can’t explain. My name is Joshua Wellington. I’m an Inspector under the employ of this United Kingdom. For the past fifteen years, a spike in missing children cases has spread all throughout the country. The children range from between the ages of five through twelve. I’ve come up with many theories ranging from serial killers to human trafficking. And had we been in any other part of the world, those would most likely be the answers I’m looking for. But not here. No. Whatever is happening, is something far more complex than that.

It’s easy to forget that they’re, that we’re, still people. That we’re not just a badge. I don’t know when I was able to disconnect. When I learned to just focus on the facts. But I was grateful for it. Wasn’t so long ago that I was in her shoes. Every tear from a mother, every horrified scream of a victim, every child’s wail, they haunted me. They never teach you how to block them out at the Academy. That’s something that you’d have to learn for yourself. Lisa wasn’t there yet. For her, every case was still personal. For her, every case still hurt.

I ended the call and rushed back inside. I made my way to the basement where we keep all of our files on cold cases. I poured through file after file, until I found them. Hundreds of children go missing every day all over the world, and I’ve handled more than a few cases involving them. I’d like to say they all had a happy ending. But that would be a lie. A good amount ends up there. Collecting dust. But sometimes something comes up that sheds some light on the past.

This was one of those times.

In the end, I found the files I was looking for. Thirty-two in all. Thirty-two cases. Thirty-two children. Thirty-two failures. I took them back to my office. And put on a pot of coffee.

She's Joshua's partner. After only recently getting promoted to Inspector, she quickly finds herself knee deep in a case so far over her head that she can barely comprehend what's happening. She's empathetic and supportive to those she sees as victims. This allows her to gain the trust of people rather easily. However, this empathy also opens her up to the point where her judgement may be impaired due to inability to step back and see the bigger picture. She's smart, loyal and caring in the extreme.

Lisa: “Jesus. You look crappier than I do and that’s saying something.”

Joshua: “What happened to you?” I asked her, rubbing the sleep out of my face.

Lisa: “I got a hangover. What happened to you?”

Joshua: “Late night at the office.”

Lisa: “Yeah, I can tell. What is all this?” She asked, gesturing to the files scattered on my desk.

Joshua: “Oh, yes. I was looking into the case.” I explained as I rose from my chair, made my way to the coffee machine, and poured myself a fresh cup. “Thanks for the coffee by the way.”

Lisa: “No problem. Anyways, didn’t you tell me not to work too hard?”

Joshua: “That I did,” I said, nodding before taking a swig of my coffee.

Lisa: “So… what is this?”

Joshua: “This is me being a hypocrite,” I said. Lisa just nodded and fell into her desk chair across from mine. “Mrs Davenport called me last night.”

Very professional, but still human. She'll do her best to remain as emotionally separated as possible while on the job. That being said, she's still only human and certain details on this particular assignment can and will disturb her; creating cracks in her otherwise perfect mask. This character plays a minor role in the beginning, but will slowly take part in a larger role in later installments as the story goes on.

Captain Richards: We're fine, Command. But it I'm looking at a lot of bodies here. Almost looks like a wild animal tore through the crew.

Private Griffin: Raiders never come out this far.

Private Parker: Let alone attack Alliance ships.

Private Cutter: Then what the fuck did this?!

Captain Richards: Cut the chatter people! Command, how do we proceed?

[THREE SECONDS OF SILENCE]

ALLIANCE COMMAND: Continue to search and secure the ship. Find and escort any survivors off the ship. Collect any and all evidence that can shed some light on what happened. Deal with any hostiles with extreme prejudice.

Captain Richards: It just isn't raider MO. Attacking an Alliance ship, no hostages, and the way these people were killed. Raiders typically just shoot them and bug out before anyone can assist the ship. But this...This wasn't caution. It was...rage.

An Interrogator. He's intelligent, blunt, and ruthless. He can and will be civil if that can get him the information that he needs. However, he'll easily use cruel and harsher methods in a heartbeat if he deems it necessary. Breaking people and extracting information from his subjects is his specialty. And he's very good at his job.

His voice is that of a man disconnected from the rest of humanity. Cold and heartless. The only sign of life that'll show itself will be that of the cruelty that lies just under the surface of his otherwise calm demeanor.

Agent *****: Captain Summers?

Captain Summers: Yes?

Agent *****: I am a representative of the-

Captain Summers: I know who you work for. The same people I work for. Or used to work for anyway.

Agent *****: Captain, will you please take a seat so we can begin?

[Incoherent mumbling]

Agent *****: Thank you. Now please state your name, occupation, and mission for the record.

Captain Summers: ...My name is Matthew James Summers; captain of the transport ship Hermes. Our mission was to supply the colony of Europa.

Agent *****: Did you ever complete your mission?

[Silence]

Agent *****: Captain Summers, answer the question, please.

Captain Summers: ...No...

Agent *****: Why not?

Captain Summers: "'Why not'?"

Agent *****: Captain-

Captain Summers: "'Why not'?!"

Agent *****: Captain Summers!

Captain Summers: You know why! You saw the footage! And why am I even here?! With these damn things on my wrists! Huh?! Locked up in here like some kind of criminal! What gives you the right?!

Agent *****: Captain! You are not here to ask questions. I am. And you are going to sit and answer them honestly and completely or I will have you strapped to that chair. Do you understand me?

Agent *****: What ship was it?

Captain Summers: It was the Harbinger. You know, the first ship to ever set up a colony in deep space? The entire reason there was a Europa in the first place? And there it was. Right in front of our ship. Just floating there.

Agent *****: How is that possible? The Harbinger was decommissioned over eighty years ago.

Captain Summers: I thought the exact same thing. But it quickly became apparent that despite how implausible it may seem, there was still a ship in need of rescue and we were the only ones who could help.

Agent *****: You didn't think to radio Command to inform them of the situation?

Captain Summers: I did. But the closer we got to the Harbinger, the more interference our communications experienced. Soon, the only signal we were receiving, was the SOS from the Harbinger. And by the time we finally reached it, that was the last thing on my mind. My priority was to save as many people as possible and figure out just what happened.

Agent *****: And did you?

Captain Summers: I was getting to that. We docked on one of the hatches used for reapplying and I sent a team of three onto the Harbinger.

Agent *****: Were they armed?

Captain Summers: Yes. But only with batons and pistols. Just to be safe. I mean, how was I supposed to know what was going to happen?!

Agent *****: Captain Summers, calm down.

Captain Summers: Oh, fuck you! “Calm down” Fuck. You. You weren't there you shit. You didn't see what I saw! You don't know a fuckin-

Agent *****: Restrain Captain Summers.

[Sounds of a struggle]

Captain Summers: Get off me! Get your godda-

[A loud slamming followed by heavy breathing]

Agent *****: Captain Summers, you are making this unnecessarily difficult. And while I do not wish to cause you any further discomfort, if you do not remain seated and answer my questions I will be forced to…intensify my methods. Am I understood?

I'm in need of an artist or several capable of adapting my stories. Show me previous works of yours and message me if interested. You will be given a scene from one of my works and will be tasked to bring it to life with your skills.